Immigrants on the Move

You’d think after ten years of living overseas, of moving from country to country, adapting to new cultures, embracing new experiences I’d be the queen of change. But I’m not. I think there are people who are naturally predisposed to change and those who aren’t. There’s no issue with being either way, equally I’m not sure it’s a trait you can choose.

My life is changing in a big way, and despite years of training and a proven record in adaptability I still feel unequal to the task. If life was the sea, the waves are currently knocking me over. I’m not surfing them I’m coughing up chunks of seawater. Will I manage? Of course. But for the moment the stormy waters are thrashing around me, and it’s scary.

Life’s too short to be unhappy, find what makes you happy. Caroline, my grandmother.

As a child there was very little stability in my life. My parents were separated and that meant moving between houses. My stepmom was reactive and sadly unhappy in her own life, this resulted in an anxious home environment where at any point her temper could explode.

Nature versus nurture is a debate that has always fascinated me. If my home life had been stable would I have been better at change? I don’t believe so, I know people who have had stable lives and still reject and avoid change to an almost pathological level. The only constant is that change will come whether we want it or not.

I am stepping into an unknown that scares me. Which is not something new; anyone living overseas and moving between countries does that every time they move. But doing it alone is a new experience for me. One I feel reluctant to embrace. But the thing is I’m either going to be flattened by this latest wave, or I’ll learn to surf it.

Hopefully like jagged bits of broken glass, the seawater of change will soften the edges and create something beautiful. I’m as ready for the tumble and undercurrent as I’ll ever be, and ultimately change is the only reliable thing in life.